“bells like clear vowels”

Written for:  The Twiglets #318 - bells like clear vowels


An ambitious 'A'
chimes from church
declaring noon.


Thick crystal glass pings an 'O'
full and vibrant as the wine
it holds.


calls for dinner
cowbell rings from front door
summons workers from fields


        The cat wore a bell 'round his neck
        to keep comings and goings in check.
            Outdoors it jingled
            deer came to mingle,
         so began an animal farm complex.

https://thetwiglets.wordpress.com/
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Pressure-Cooker

Written for:  dVerse Poets Pub - Haibun Monday - Pressure
(posted by Frank J. Tassone

"Today, let’s write a haibun that references pressure, in whatever way you experience or conceive of it."


When I was a child, my mother used a pressure-cooker.
She was the only person to go near it.  Silver knob
at the top rolled side to side.  Steam escaped,
and it whistled.  I waited for it to blow up,
but it never did.

I do not own a pressure-cooker.  It would be yet another
item to add to the pressures I am always under.

     scurries back and forth
     selects the finest twigs
     for new nest in spring

https://dversepoets.com/2023/03/27/haibun-monday-3-27-23-pressure/
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Skirting the Edges of March

Written for:  Poetic Bloomings2 - Prompt #431
Harbingers of Spring (and Whatnot)

"The weather may not realize it quite yet, but we are of a mind for spring.  Spring ahead with your best seasonal poems celebrating the demise of the winter doldrums."


Spotted on white fence,
the scarlet coat
of a cardinal.  Some
brave purple crocus
push through
the earth.  Fragile
daffodils in bloom,
now sway in a chill
wind.  Miniscule buds
tentatively make
an appearance on
the tips of the
Japanese maple.  This
is the time of year
we walk on tip-toes
skirting the edges
of March, hoping
April will see us
into spring.

https://poeticbloomings2.wordpress.com/  
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Raw Scars

Written for:  The Sunday Whirl, Wordle #598

Words:  scar, raw, secrets, truth, scandals, whispers,
        feather, layers, rushes, bone-weary, spiral, healing


Bone-weary, scars still raw,
she was recuperating slowly
whispered her mother
to her best friend.  You
know you cannot rush 
healing even in youth.  
After spiraling
downward like a spinning
top, recovery goes through
a series of layers–both physical
and mental.  She is not
ready to face the truth
of those scandals, 
secrets, and lies
that float about her
like black feathers.
All we can hope for
is justice.

https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/
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Wolf Secrets

Written for:  The Sunday Muse #252


I am the one
you never see
especially in winter
snow.  Tree confetti
aids me while I sleep.
When day sky turns
to night, I must travel
far into the woods.
For the present, 
I am content to be
a while wolf bump
on a log.

http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/ 
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Little Care

Written for:  dVerse Poets Pub, MTB:  Wordplay (posted by Grace)

"Write a poem using word-play techniques as described."

"Word play, also written as wordplay, word-play, or a play on words, is when a writer experiments with the sound, meaning, and/or construction of words to produce new and interesting meanings. In other words, the writer is twisting language to say something unexpected, with the intent of entertaining or provoking the reader."

Wordplay definition: Experimentation with the sounds, definitions, and/or constructions of words to produce new and interesting meanings.


The haunt of whale-deaths
stays with me. Beautiful
monsters of the sea
left lifeless on 
the shore.  Animaled
earth needs to be
taken seriously.  We
have not learned to
share, and respect
other forms of life.
Even birded woods 
can change to silence.
Aware yourselves
of your surroundings.

https://dversepoets.com/
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Comforting Memories

Written for:  dVerse Poets Pub - Poetics:  in father's name
(posted by Punam)

"So, you must have gathered, today we are going to write about fathers. Whether you want to write about your father, a fictional father or yourself as a father, is up to you. The father you write about can be an ordinary dad, a demigod or a demon. To help you along I am sharing titles of some songs about fathers. Please use at least three in your poem on father. Use the title as is, though of course you can break the title or use punctuation if required but do not insert any word."


A warm, soulful brown
were my father's eyes.
Eyes that took in
what I said,
and how I looked.
Lavender colors him
father, a shade we
both loved–color 
and scent.  In Daddy's
hands I felt safe,
secure.  They held
my belly while teaching 
me to swim.  They guided 
my bicycle until I felt
confident. He showed joy in each
gift I made for him as a child, 
and praised me for all accomplishments,
small or large.  I miss him.

I used:

My father’s eyes: Eric Clapton
Color him father: The Winstons
Daddy’s hands: Holly Dunn

https://dversepoets.com/
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spring haiku

Written for:  Poetic Asides Prompt #648

"Write a spring poem"


alighting
purple leafy lavender
monarch butterfly

https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/wednesday-poetry-prompts-648
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“smothering years”

Written for:  The Twiglets #317 - smothering years


Golden years 
smother the dreams
of where and who
you thought you would be.


Her mother–in the name of love–
smothered her early years
with fear of childhood
sports, games, and animals.
Grown now, her phobias rule.


water rises
above the spring heads
of lotus blossoms


         The building he lived in for years
        was smothered in odor-causing tears.
               A neighbor in 2A
           cooked cabbage every day.
 When they moved out, even grout was scrubbed front and rear.

https://thetwiglets.wordpress.com/ 
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The Grifter

Written for:  dVerse Poets Pub - Quadrille #172
(posted by Mish)

"Shift is the word to fit into your quadrille this week. There are many derivatives to dabble with."

shifted, shifting, reshift, intershifting, shifty, shifter, shiftiness

redshift, blueshift, makeshift, gearshift, frameshift, downshift, upshift, dayshift


He was a shifty
grifter, playing
different roles
for different
people.  Preference–
the night shift,
when parties,
drinking, 
and gambling
were at their
height.  Might
have continued
his shiftiness
if not for the pitch
he gave to an
undercover cop,
also playing a role.

https://dversepoets.com/
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Lucky Seven

Written for:  The Sunday Whirl, Wordle #597

Words:  soothing, label, seven, luck, color, cage, forced,
        guide, miracle, mission, grief, hidden


Label said, Lucky Seven,
a soothing miracle
drink.  Comes in all
colors.  This must be
the elixir her missionary
guide had recommended.
Hidden in this bottle
were seven powerful
herbs that were touted
to force out grief.
Desperate, she wished
to believe in miracles.
So overpowering was her
sorrow, she felt imprisoned
in it.  With trepidation,
she bought a bottle.  Drank
it.  Scammed again.  She woke
and found herself in the same
cage she had created.

https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/
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For the Good Of The Earth

Written for:  Poetic Bloomings2 - Prompt #430 - For or Against

"As we know, you can be for something or against something. The stuff of confrontation. We won’t go there. This is a soothing place. The poems we write are either “For” poems (For The Love Of Pete, For Your Own Good…) or “Against” poems (Against All Odds, Against The Clock…). Keep the peace and write your piece, for or against, it’s all good."


Please
wake up.
Look around
you.  Ask questions.
What can I do to save 
oceans, attract butterflies,
protect whales, promote health for all–
people and animals?  Write letters

to all representatives who are
supposed to be representing
you.  Attend demonstrations.
Write poems for all to share
your views.  Feed children,
animals.
Do your
part.

https://poeticbloomings2.wordpress.com/
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Survivors

Written for:  The Sunday Muse #251

They try to cut us down
in vain.  We are vital
to Mother Nature.  She
would not have us vanish.
We have formed a union,
merged as one entity.
Pity all those who think
we are weak.  We have
roots that grow deep
in the earth.  As pink
begins to dawn the sky,
we stand strong–
survivors of greed,
and limitations.

http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/
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Down and Dreamy

Written for:  Friday Writings #68 - Light as a Feather

"So today for those who would like to work with a prompt, I’m suggesting “as light as a feather.” What comes to mind when you hear that phrase? Write about or anything else that tickles your fancy and it with us."


Imagine the lightness
of a featherbed–soft
downy ivory, with
feather-stuffed pillows
to recline against.  I
would take my quill pen
and write flights 
of fancy poems that would
look as elegant as my words
would sound.

https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/
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At Montauk Point

Written for:  dVerse Poets Pub - Poetics:  Poetry of Place and Space
(posted by Ingrid)

"Write the poetry of the places and/or spaces which inspire you the most. It does not have to be natural scenery: choose a cityscape or even a cinema or shopping mall if you prefer. I simply want to know how place and space move you, and which places and spaces mean the most to you."


When on the beach at Montauk Point
troubles slip into the ocean.
Watching waves never disappoints
when on the beach at Montauk Point.
Its beauty remains unspoiled.
Words flow like a magic potion.
When on the beach at Montauk Point
troubles slip into the ocean.

https://dversepoets.com/
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“rain-beaten stones”

Written for:  The Twiglets #316 - rain-beaten stones


white-spotted rocks
at the base of a waterfall
rain-beaten stones


The storm's relentless,
pounding rain played
a symphony on 
the stones below.


outside her window
steady drumming
rain pinging on stones


He awoke in middle of night
startled by pounding, he was all affright.
He picked up a bat
in case of attack
Looked out and saw rain pelting stones under light.

https://thetwiglets.wordpress.com/ 
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Libraries

Written for:  Poetic Bloomings2 - Prompt #429, SHHHH!

"Head to the stacks and write of something associated with a library."


Couldn't wait for
the Book Mobile
to come around.
Trailer-sized,
it was filled
floor to ceiling
with books.  As
a child, I loved
climbing into
that space, taking
my time to choose.

I remember walking
into the imposing
42nd Street library,
with its stone lions
out front. So many 
rooms.  So silent.
Filled with elegance.

Now I visit our local
library, with its
music and movies
to rent on the main
floor.  Downstairs
are all categories
of books.  The Children's
section is off to the
side, and there are
tables and chairs
scattered about
for students,
researchers,
and those looking
for a serene place
in which to sit,
think or perhaps
simply dream.

https://poeticbloomings2.wordpress.com/
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Music in her Soul

Written for:  The Sunday Whirl - Wordle #596

Words: broken, powers, normal, room, call, music, church, hand,
       shaking, black, trial, star


Learned her music
in church.  She said
it was her calling.
Now she is a star.
At first her hands
shook before
she got on stage,
normal for a young girl.
As she grew accustomed  
to the many rooms
she worked, her voice
became powerful.  When
the trial period ended,
she began to play
large concert halls.
She was across 
the country when she
heard that her old
church had caught on
fire.  The congregation
was broken-hearted.
Almost everything
inside had turned
to black ash.  She
cancelled her tour,
flew to Philly,
and paid for new
church to be built. While
a construction crew
worked, she sang
the music she heard
in childhood on this
very spot.

https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/
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To My Dearest Flower Friends

Written for:  Friday Writings #67:  "love letters to wild flowers"

"I invite you to create poetry or prose inspired by Marja’s words: “Write love letters to wild flowers”.


Dear Sunflowers,

I wait impatiently
for you to rise
up to full stature,
your bonneted head
resting on sturdy
stalk, your petaled
eyelashes circled
'round brown velvet
eye.

Dear Peonies,

I long to see your
tight-fisted petals,
guardians of your
secrets.  Slowly,
I watch you unfurl
to bursting pink
pom-poms.

https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/
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High, Light, Highlight

Written for:  dVerse Poets Pub - MTB:  Three-way Split *Syszgy
(posted by Laura Bloomsbury)

*"It is derived from Late Latin syzygia, from Greek syzygia “yoke of animals, pair, union of two, conjunction”.

"Compound words – when two (or more) words are joined, creating a different word with another distinct meaning."

Choose ONE of these compound words with the derivatives:

1. Body, guard, bodyguard
2. Dragon, fly, dragonfly
3. Free, lance, freelance
4. High, light, highlight
5. Rain, bow, rainbow

"We are writing without any set rule for rhyme or meter:

A poem with THREE separate and distinct stanzas
Each stanza numbered or subtitled with the reference word
Include the reference word within the stanza if not subtitled


HIGH on the trail behind Multnomah Falls,
rushing pristine water splashing
on rocks.  I look straight out
on the sparkling water of a sun-
drenched Columbia River.


LIGHT

If you light my fire,
the orange flame remains
inside the body–smoldering.
As light touches my
face, a telltale glow
sweeps my cheeks under
light of a full moon.

HIGHLIGHT

The lamp post light rises
high above the darkened
street fueling a feeling
of safety, highlighting
corners with pools
of light.  I think
of my visit to 
the Trevi Fountain,
highlighted in spectacular 
beauty against backdrop
of night.

https://dversepoets.com/


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“kiss on the cheek”

Written for:  The Twiglets #315 - kiss on the cheek


Her inebriated first date
kissed her on the cheek
dribbling spit.  No
future dates planned.


A kiss on each cheek
is romantically chic.


rosy red cheeks
on this summer day
feel of his kiss


            The man called The Kissing Bandit
             was finally caught red-handed
                 kissed undercover cop
                was cuffed on the spot,
           face posted online–now he was branded.

https://thetwiglets.wordpress.com/
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The Great Gaspbee

Written for:  dVerse Poets Pub - Quadrille #171:  Poetry is a Kind of Gasp
(posted by whimsygizmo)


They called him
The Great Gaspbee.
He never fumbled,
or bumbled about.
His hive was neat,
and very sweet.  His
honey was thought
superior by the Queen
who had a tendency
to favor him.  Well
loved in the colony
for his sociability,
and song.

https://dversepoets.com/
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Sunday at Sue’s

Written for:  Poetic Bloomings2 #428 - Again and Again

"We will work with alliteration this week.Come up with an alliterative title and use the function throughout the poem.Be it a Westward Wing or a poem about Bad Bologna, the repetitiveness will get you noticed."


Come to Sunday's pool party
a funky feast, says Artie.
While parents play in Europe
We'll blast beats 'til sunup.
After some swimming and games
a big barbecue, no rain.
Please be at her house by two.

https://poeticbloomings2.wordpress.com/
   
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Mastermind

Written for:  The Sunday Whirl, Wordle #595

Words:  leaping, serene, face, numb, killing, page, halo, quiver,
        sighs, twig, mind, voice


He was the voice
of the Stock Exchange–
made a killing, face
on the front page
of Time.  Leaping
from one deal 
to the next, he was 
said to have a brilliant
mind.  His halo began
to tarnish, and his
usually serene demeanor
showed quivers around
the mouth.  His investors
were numb with shock
when they found out
they had been swindled
by a mastermind. A mighty
oak was left a twig.  
People sighed, cried,
shouted in anger,
pounding their fists
against the wall.  They
would never see their
money again.  His rotting
in prison was no consolation
prize.

https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/
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Dream of a Swan

Written for:  Sunday Muse #249
The Dream by Lara Zankoul
I watch her sleep
careful not to ruffle
my feathers on this
uncomfortable comforter.
When I awake, back in
the lake that is my
home, I wonder
if I will remember
this strange dream.
I will wonder if
she really exists
somewhere other
than in my dreams.

http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/

Posted in Purple's Home | 23 Comments

“a friendly chat”

Written for:  The Twiglets #314 - a friendly chat


Thought this was going to be
a friendly chat.  Why did you
bring a bodyguard?


We decided to have a friendly chat,
and bury the hatchet. By the time
I left, I wanted to bury the hatchet
in her.


eagerly awaits
aroma of jasmine tea
a good friend


            She told him right off the bat
         she'd not live in a house with a cat. 
               She knew about Louie,
               saw boxes from Chewy,
        so clearly this was a pointless chat.

https://thetwiglets.wordpress.com/
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The Big Bake-off

Written for:  Poetic Bloomings2 - Prompt #427 - Moving Forward

"This week, take one of your sentences from last week and build it into your poem.. Simple as that."


She thought is was just for fun,
would not compete, didn't care who won
in a silly bake-off of cakes.
And just how high were the stakes?
There would have to be a judge
against whom there could be no grudge.
She had assumed they'd sample all wares,
exchange recipes, have some laughs, and cheers.
Since this would not be the case,
She baked coconut cake for family; none went to waste.

https://poeticbloomings2.wordpress.com/
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Seasonal Hints

Written for:  dVerse Poets Pub - Haibun Monday:  Mezza Luna
(posted by Frank J. Tassone)

Mezza luna is quarter phase or half moon.

"During the quarter phase, depending on our location, one-half of the moon’s surface will be visible today. North of the Equator, it will be the first quarter—the right half will be seen. South of the Equator, the left side will be visible—and the moon will be in its third quarter."

"While this winter has been a mild one here in New York’s backyard, forecasts call for snow today and tomorrow. Nevertheless, the spring equinox arrives by the 20th of March. Just as the half-moon represents a change between new or full moon phases, this time of year is when Winter transitions to Spring."


"Today, let’s write a haibun that references Mezza Luna, or half-moon, however you perceive it."


Mezza luna's chill will soon appear warmer, more mellow
as February cedes to March.  Winds calm; a crocus
peeks out.  Young love begins to bloom.  Spring arrives
in a sweet bouquet.

        bird scurry for twigs
        new nest is needed for spring
        to house newborns

https://dversepoets.com/
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Musing In The Garden

Written for:  Sunday Whirl, Wordle #594

Words:  locks, free, steam, feet, steal, fall, creeping,
        joyous, garden, space, seems, stars


Her hair stole down
her back after freeing
her locks from their star-
shaped clip.  Barefoot,
she crept along the edge
of her new garden space,
joyous at the sight
of green buds dotting
the soil.  Seems like
Winter was only yesterday.
she wonders how quickly
the steam-cloud of Summer
will fall across her blooms.

https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/
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Forget-Me-Nots

Written for:  The Sunday Muse #248
A night of fog.  He understands.
His mind never seems to clear
these days.  Sitting alone
on a bench, he studies 
the flowers he plans
to present to his wife,
gone ten years now.

http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/
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The World in Tangles

Written for:  Friday Writings #65

I'd like you to shape your words around the phrase, "it's been a long time coming." 


How long did it take
and whose fault is it?
Human kindness is on
hold, greed and selfishness
have evolved.  We had
a pandemic that changed
lives, and lost many.
We did not have strong
leadership; we had
a tearing apart 
like rent fabrics.
How long will it take
for people to care
about each other?
I do not see any
changes in the wind.

https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/    
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Same View of Happiness

Written for:  Poetic Asides #644

"For this week's prompt, write a happy poem. The poem could be about someone else's happiness or your own. Maybe the poem looks at the pursuit of happiness or reveals a moment of pure joy. Of course, write this one in whatever way makes you happy."


My father used to
say, 'All I need
is the ocean, and
a nail to hang
my swimsuit on."
Funny that we
both had that
same dream
of happiness.

https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/wednesday-poetry-prompts-644
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From Sweet to Fire

Written for:  dVerse Poets Pub - Poetics:  Prelude to a Kiss
(posted by Kim)

"A week too late for Valentine’s Day, the challenge is to write a poem about kissing, a special kiss that still haunts you, a peck, a snog, a kiss hello or a kiss goodbye. Whatever it is, try to capture the wordless intimacy of the act."


First time kiss with someone
you have dreamt about
kissing for a while,
wondering what it would 
feel like.  Tentatively, 
lips touch softly, 
electricity begins to jolt.  
Neither can pull away from
the sweetness.  Intensity
grows, and lips press
harder.  Slowly, lips part, 
and fire begins.

https://dversepoets.com/ 
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“trick of the light”

Written for:  The Twiglets #313 - trick of the light


she looked provocative
'til she turned–
changing bar light


Oh no, creature
in my bedroom
dangling mid-air.
Flip that light switch;
it's a shirt on a chair.


held high lit candles
concert in the park
field of fireflies


             Visited Coney Island's Fun House
            together with his kids and spouse.
            Trick mirrors changed their looks
             squat to weird, trapped in nooks.
     Scrambling for exit, kids shrieked, and spouse groused.

https://thetwiglets.wordpress.com/
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The Gift That Won a Smile

Written for:  dVerse Poets Pub - Quadrille #170
"Music is My Refuge"  (posted by Linda Lee Lyberg)

"Welcome to Quadrille Monday here at dVerse. This week I’d like you to take any meaning, form or compound of the word music, and write a poem of exactly 44 words (not counting your title), including the prompt word."
 

               “Music was my refuge. I could crawl into the space 
                between the notes and curl my back to loneliness.” 

                                                 ~ Maya Angelou ~


After watching the film,
Dr. Zhivago, my mother
was haunted by the theme 
song, humming it like
a mantra.  I no longer
recall who gifted her
with an ivory colored
music box which when opened
played Lara’s Theme.
It was always her favorite
gift.

https://dversepoets.com/
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Random Words and Sentences

Written for:  Poetic Bloomings2 - Prompt #426:  Getting Your Exercise

“Exercise In Poetic Thought” appeared in April of 2019. The idea was (and remains) to be a springboard into a poetic nudge. I will offer ten random words. Your chore is to write ten random lines each featuring one of the words. We’re not writing poetry per se, We are just developing lines with poetic potential. They should not be related in any way. In the next few weeks, we will put these lines to use.

Here are examples we originally used. Say three of the words are fear, green and Wednesday. You might write:

She never lets fear persuade her decisions.
2. The grass in the meadow is finding its usual green hue.

3. Come Wednesday, he should know his fate.

All are disassociated thoughts with poetic potential. That’s all we’re doing today.

Words for your consideration are:

compete, tough, imposter, strange, scandal,

yearn, knife, discipline, exception, constellation


1. She refused to compete.

2. He wore his stubbornness like tough leather.

3. Too late, it was discovered the doctor was an imposter.

4. What a strange life it has been.

5. Scandal of the mogul and the model hit the tabloids.

6. I yearn to know what my life would have been like
   if I had chosen a different path.

7. Upon searching the kitchen, the detectives discovered
   that a large knife was missing.

8. Discipline is not in a dog's vocabulary.

9. An exception was made for the son of a wealthy
   patron.

10. A constellation of angry parents descended on the principal.

https://poeticbloomings2.wordpress.com/
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Health Concerns

Written for:  The Sunday Whirl, Wordle #593

Words:  crow, thistle, sheet, loss, stalks, depths, throw,
        wispy, crest, elder, sky, tremor


Grass-green corn stalks
are shooting up.  He looks
at his financial sheets
and is hopeful no loss
will occur this season.
The elders will be proud–
nothing to throw away,
no one having to eat crow.
Wispy clouds like spiky
thistle thread the sky
over the crest of
the mountain.  As he
opens his front door, 
he feels a tremor
in his right hand.  
Not the first time.
Usually keeps his distance 
from doctors, but now
he is frightened; it's time.

https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/
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Last of the Survivors?

Written for:  The Sunday Muse #247
Written for:  The Sunday Muse #247


Thinking they were done
with virus-protection
masks, the Andersons
find themselves breathing
through hoses, their faces
and heads smoldering
under enforced Federal
mandate wear.  The Andersons
do not know how many others
have survived, or when
their tanks will run out.
Robotic-like, they continue
lumbering along a strange
path, wondering if life
might now be pointless.

http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/
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The Great Poppyseed Experiment

Written for:  Friday Writings #64 - Life is Strange (and often
              sneakier) Than Fiction

"I invite us to write poetry or prose inspired by the following 
Neil Gaiman quote: 
“Life is always going to be stranger than fiction, because fiction has to be convincing, and life doesn’t.”


We called it
The Great Poppyseed
Experiment.  Wall Street.
Psychotic Human Resources
Director, previously
salesman, now burnout. 
Of course the logical
next position for him
was Director.  Smug,
with a superior air,
he hired MBAs from
only two schools.  Tossed
the resumes of all others.
Two new hopefuls had failed
their drug test, claiming
it was due to eating poppyseed
muffins.  Director wanted
them hired.  An elaborate
experiment, wherein boxes
of poppyseed muffins were
shipped in, took place.
We were the guinea pigs 
who ate them.  No conclusion 
was drawn.  Director kept
new MBAs; they were from
the right schools.

https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/
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Animal Kingdom

Written for dVerse Poets Pub - Poetics:  This Valentine's Day, Come 
and State it Plainly  (posted by Sanaa)

"For Today’s Poetics, I want you to write a love poem. Bear in mind that it doesn’t necessarily need to be romantic. It can also be dark and speak of ache and loss. It can transcend words and language. It can describe what the heart has been carrying within for a long time. The possibilities are endless."


My love of animals
can be a curse.  
I watch what is
happening to their
world–species endangered,
or wiped out.  I see
each whale wash up
on shore, and my eyes
fill with tears, my
stomach knots.  Loss
of habitat and food
sources are killing
them.  I feel a constant
sorrow in my heart
because of my love
of animals.

https://dversepoets.com/2023/02/14/poetics-this-valentines-day-come-and-state-it-plainly/#more-25923
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Snap Decision

Written for:  Poetic Asides #643

"For this week's prompt, write a lost moment poem. There are so many lost moments in our lives...times when we could've done something, fretted over what to do, and ultimately missed a chance to do anything. Or sprung into action without thinking and did the wrong thing."


I
made
a snap
decision,
gave up life I knew.
Constant complaints drove me crazy.
What did I imagine he'd do after retirement
except continue staying idle.  You do not change stripes by moving across country.

https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/wednesday-poetry-prompts-643
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Dark Humor

Written for:  Poetic Bloomings2 - Prompt #425 - "Who Are You?"

"We all “look” for ourselves from time to time. Who are we? Think of a trait or an aspect of yourselves and make that a basis for your poem. Are you kind? Artistic? Miserable? Write it and make sure it’s in the form of a poem! (Jeopardy theme plays)"


My sense of humor
tends to run
to darkness,
so often misunderstood
by those without one.

https://poeticbloomings2.wordpress.com/
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Breakfast Disaster

Written for:  The Sunday Whirl, Wordle #592

Words:  change, culture, proud, me, first, realized, owned,
        time, else, here, sorry, dictionary


Sorry.  I realize now
that I did not check
date and time for
expiration first,
or else I would not
have served you this
highly cultured yogurt.
Not proud.  Your facial
color has changed to
dictionary's definition 
of pea-green.  Next time 
you breakfast with me here, 
a home-cooked meal 
will be waiting. I own
a waffle iron.  Do you
like waffles?  Ooops!  Bad
timing; I'll get the bucket.

https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/
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Spanish Steps

Written for:  The Sunday Muse #246
I Dream of Reaching by Ivan Pili
Sans shoes, she
carefully steps
between pieces 
of debris, 
making her way
up the cracked 
stone, bricks,
and marble of
the Spanish Steps.
Diaphanous dress
flounces, billows
like a cloud-sail.
No rail to keep her
balanced.  Determined
to climb, then rest
easy, as she reads
tattered books
of poetry by Keats,
and Shelley.  She
imagines this is
her home.

http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/
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How To Win My Heart

Written for:  Friday Writings #63:  What's Cooking?

"I recently became aware of recipe poems. They can be literal instructions for food preparation, or they can be metaphors, about creating anything else you can think of – but they need to be structured to have some resemblance, however slight, to an actual recipe."

"So this week’s optional prompt, for those who would like one, is exactly that: to write a recipe (whether literally for an actual meal, or metaphorically for anything else at all)."


Blend 30 drops wit
with 20 drops compassion.
Mix until blended.
Add a taste of music,
a generous sprinkling
of books, a dusting 
of ocean breeze, 
and 2 heaping
cups of romance.
Blend until smooth
and silky.

Voila!  You have
won my heart.

https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/ 
 
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Is There Some Recognition?

Written for:  Poetic Asides #642 - Love Poem

"For this week's prompt, write a love poem. With Valentine's Day just around the corner, romantic love poems make a lot of sense, and yes, feel encouraged to write those if you feel so inclined. But love is more complicated than that. There's also love between family, friends, and a universal love. 

Love can be happy, sad, mad, apathetic, and so on. Write your "love" poem in whatever fashion you wish today."


I hear no sarcasm
all day.  You no
longer make me
laugh.  Your side
of the bed is filled
by puppy.  Dementia
is eating up all 
those witticisms,
reading ability,
names.  I visit 
you, tell you
I love you, 
and can only
hope some part
of you hears me.

https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/wednesday-poetry-prompts-642
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“eyeing it”

Written for:  The Twiglets #311 - eyeing it


She had been eyeing it
all night.  No one was
surprised when 
the diamond disappeared.


eyeing her arm
he had never seen a woman
with that many tattoos.


eyes follow
graceful movement
a white swan


            A man who was eyeing a llama
             wanted a photo for mamma
              He crept up too close
              and then it got gross
       Llama spit in man's face, a real prima donna.   
 
https://thetwiglets.wordpress.com/
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Star Cloud

Written for:  dVerse Poets Pub - Quadrille #169 - A Star (Poem) is Born
(posted by whimsygizmo)


"Today, I’d like you to close your eyes and wish upon a star."

Starstruck, starry eyed, falling star, superstar, all-star, rockstar, Starbucks, starshine, star power, movie star, stardust.
I came upon a star cloud cluster
appearing as a vast 
silver-painted canvas 
stretching across one corner
of the sky.  I dreamt
what it would be like
to join those stars
for just one night.  Cold,
and bright with an upside-
down view.

https://dversepoets.com/
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When Touched By Dreams

Written for:  Poetic Bloomings2, Prompt #424 - Hey, That's My Line! #6

"Today we return to one of our favorite exercises: Take a line from someone else’s poem posted at Poetic Bloomings and, for the moment, make it your own. You may use it as your title. Or you might consider using it in the body of your fresh new poem. Either way, be sure to credit the poet and poem from which it came.  Have fun!"


An amazing array
of ages pop up
when I dream.
Oddly, I am
never my true
age.  Sometimes
I'm that little
girl in grade
school with my 
first crush on
Jeffrey.  Often
my forties come
soaring back,
decade I loved
best for all 
the laughter, friends,
and full life.
If I wake in 
the middle of the
night from 
a happy dream,
I try to continue
it, but that seldom
works.  I am always
touched by my dreams,
whether happy or
nightmarish.

(Line taken from Mike Bayles,
Hotel Suite, Prompt #420)

https://poeticbloomings2.wordpress.com/  

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Release

Written for:  The Sunday Whirl, Wordle #591

Words:  switch, strip, status, air, paper, firm, minute, vision,
        bright, show, disappeared, release


He took a firm
stand.  Armed
with paper and pen
in hand, he proceeded
to write his letter
of release.  Vision 
bright, air clear,
he felt this minute
was the perfect
one to show his
superior–through
crisp, stripped
down sentences–
the status of his
feelings regarding
poor treatment he had
received for far too long.
His switch to a new
place of employment
woke him from a
hypnotic state
of staleness.  Would
his superior even 
care?  Doesn't matter.
He had become one
of the disappeared.

https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/
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Contrasts

Written for:  Friday Writings #69:  Darkness and Light

"Give us your take on darkness and light."

Pale rose
of dawn light
warms the sky–
an appetizer
before the main
course–fiery
orange/violet 
streaks
of sunset.


Darkness in heart
hardens to stone
leaving no cracks
open for light
to pass through.
Such a heart is
the dark smoke
mentioned in
meditation, 
the smoke we try
to expel.

https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/
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